See Some Evil, Do Some Evil
by Sierra Sutherwind
Summary: Sometimes the most successful missions also ask for the hardest sacrifices. SSSWT 2019


See Some Evil, Do Some Evil

by

Sierra Sutherwinds

1.

"We can't do this. It's suicidal, impossible." Newkirk lit his cigarette before stirring the tea bag in his cup. Bitter winter days were perfect for staying indoors and relax by the stove. "London need to slow down with their lists of wishes. We're still in a prison camp."

"Newkirk's right, we can't just take a train to the Alps. It's physically impossible." Carter sat next to the Englishman. He was convinced that they would pass on this mission. LeBeau nodded in quiet agreement. This job was definitely off the table.

Kinch agreed too, like any reasonable person would. However, a couple of years of living at close quarters with Colonel Hogan had taught him to expect the unexpected. This time, though, it seemed that it was a general consensus that they would not take this mission. They were not prepared for seizing three scientists from a laboratory in the mountains, hide them and put them in the next submarine to London. Kinch's concern was that the Colonel had not said the last word yet.

"It's not in the Alps… but yes, it's not an easy task," Hogan frowned, as he walked to the stove to refill his mug of coffee. "It's a pity, though. Intel is concerned about those laboratories, built nowhere and ready for who knows what… yes, I know it's shady," he smirked, putting his mug on the table. "But the rumors about a new weapon are getting stronger. I'd sleep better if we could mess a little with that. But, you all are right, we're not even close… well, it's just 40 minutes from here but, still…" Hogan shrugged, unconvinced.

No more was said until the sound of a motorcar crossing the gates dragged them to the door. A Luftwaffe general got out his car in front of the Kommandantur. As always, Klink welcomed the visitor effusively. "I suggest you come into my office, before the blizzard turns us into snowmen," the Colonel stepped aside. "If you follow me, please?" The general bowed and let him lead the way.

"Time for coffee," Hogan made the announcement and walked into his office, followed by his men.

* * *

General Ludwig Schreiber sat down and pointed at the box of cigars on Klink's desk. "You understand that Berlin is still interested in reports from all prison camps in my jurisdiction. I know my successor was not too lucky, but this time, I'm in charge."

Hogan smiled at his men, gathered around the coffee pot like a family on radio nights. "As long as Klink refrains from promoting himself this time, the Inspector General will have a chance to do his job."

Colonel Klink sat at his desk, confident in the good job he kept doing at Stalag 13. "Oh, I'm sure the general will be satisfied with my performance. Stalag 13 has a remarkable record of zero successful escapes. Security is on top of my list of priorities… Would you like something to drink?" He walked to his minibar in the corner and lifted a bottle of cognac. "Something to brave this dreadful weather?"

"Cognac would be fine, danke." The general smiled and sighed. "I love this weather… It reminds me of my days as a skier. I used to train in the mountains, 2 celsius degrees, the perfect weather conditions."

"That's interesting. Did you compete professionally? I did some pole vaulting in my younger years and almost made it into the national team. Unfortunately, I was called for more important duties." Klink poured two shots of cognac and sat at his desk again.

General Schreiber took a sip of his drink and nodded. "Well, I was part of the team in the 1922 Deutsche Kampfspiele and the coach of the German Team in Nordic Combined for the 1936 Winter Games. But yes, the war took that from us… not that I'm complaining, but I would do anything to feel that rush of the competition again. The cold wind on your skin, your mind on the finish line, and your heart pounding before the race starts. I miss the mountains and the snow; and of course, the pleasure of showing our superiority above the other competitors."

Hogan turned off the transmissor to put his thoughts in order. "Now, that's an interesting turn of events… Gentlemen, prepare your snow boots. LeBeau," he patted the Frenchman on the shoulder. "You, come with me."

There was a general concern when Hogan walked out with LeBeau. They did not know what he was planning yet, and that was alarming. "I'm really scared now," said Newkirk, looking at Kinch and Carter.

"Let's hope for the best," Kinch nodded, while putting away the coffee pot.

Hogan crossed the yard and did not stop until they were in front of Klink's window. He signaled LeBeau to follow his lead as he began to speak. "So, how do you like this weather? Kind of makes you nostalgic, isn't it? The mountains… cross-country in skis?"

LeBeau stared at Hogan for a moment, trying to figure out what was with him. It was a tricky question since LeBeau had never skied in his life. "Oh? Ah, oui, definitely… it's beautiful weather for skiing, I miss the mountains." He spoke directly to the window, figuring out the story as he went.

"You almost made it to the Olympics, didn't you? The ones that were cancelled."

"Oui, the boches were not competition. They are weak and dumb and-" Hogan made a sign for him to slow down.

"We want to stir the waters, not to provoke a perfect storm," Hogan whispered quickly, as the general was coming out. One look at him and Hogan knew that the German had swallowed the hook. Now, he only had to wait for Klink to do the introductions.

"This is Inspector General Ludwig Schreiber, Colonel Hogan." Klink turned and continued. "Colonel Hogan is our POW senior ranking officer."

"I couldn't help but listen… did you say you were a professional skier?" The general ignored introductions and spoke directly to LeBeau. "Did you participate in any international events?"

"Ah… Yes, all of them...," LeBeau felt Hogan's glare and he rectified. "A few," he frowned, wondering where they were heading with this.

"LeBeau was ready to win some medals before they cancelled competitions due to the war." Hogan kept pushing. "Days like this are especially difficult for him. He would love to climb those mountains and do some cross-country, ain't that right, LeBeau?"

"Oue, I love cross-country." LeBeau smiled, concerned by the twist this story was taken.

"If he only could, he would be up there, for one day and come down the hill. You know, the cold breeze on his face as he slides on the snow… Just wondering which team has the best strategies, who is the strongest..." Hogan did not need many words to present the perfect picture for the general. It was clear that the man had been dreaming of a chance like that himself. "Too bad that we can't solve our conflicts with a good competition."

Colonel Klink was not aware of where this conversation was heading. Certainly, it was a surprise to learn that the Frenchman had been part of any athletic activity before the war. "It's such a pity that we're at war and Corporal LeBeau is our prisoner. We still could wait till the end of the war," he shrugged, in a patronizing tone.

"We have to? I don't know, it wouldn't be bad for moral to have a competition… it could be healthy." The general stared at the mountains, lost in his own thoughts.

"But where, that would be something to consider, because of security, of course." Hogan smirked, pushing his plan into action.

"Yes, that's impossible, we can't transport prisoners out of camp just for recreation. That's against regulations," Klink agreed.

"Well, you have mountains quite nearby… up north, say 40 miles from here? There must be some ski resort somewhere." Hogan chuckled, putting on his most innocent face. This would have to work, soon, or he would drop his plan altogether.

"Blauer Berg…" General Schreiber said with a sigh. His face was shining with excitement and he planned details in his head. "18 kilometers… I'll put ten guards, and Klink, you can put other ten…"

"Nine kilometers should be enough for us. My men are not in their best shape." Hogan glanced at LeBeau, as though seeking his approval.

"That will make it easier for all of us." The general tapped Klink on the back. "It will be epic, Klink. I'll bring 6 of my best men, and Colonel Hogan can bring his."

"Six prisoners? General, I don't think I could-" Klink stammered, trying to make himself heard.

"We don't even have gear for three," said Hogan.

"How about three men?" Schreiber asked Hogan directly. "I'll bring the gear."

"Three is my lucky number," Hogan grinned, satisfied with how his plan was finally taking off.

2.

"Pack only the necessary: detonators, pistols and ammo. Don't forget your duffle bags with regular stuff for Schultz to check over." Hogan checked the list he had been preparing for the mission. He spread a map on the table and waved his men to gather around. "LeBeau and Carter, you are our cover. Get into the competition and make it to the final line. You'll get points if you fall a couple of times to slow down the race."

"Right your thing, Carter," Newkirk had just sat at the table next to Carter.

"Quoi? I don't have to win? But I'm still the Olympic champion, n'est-ce pas?" LeBeau made a joke, still amazed at Hogan's persistence.

"Oh, no. We have to let the Germans win this one; it's good for their self esteem." Hogan adopted a more serious tone now. "Kinch, you'll be our odd man out. We'll sneak you in Klink's truck and you know what you have to do."

"I'll take Newkirk's place in the race at the kilometer 1,5. I'll race for 5 kilometers or so, until Newkirk comes back in."

"In the meantime, Newkirk will meet the underground agent and get into the laboratory." Hogan pointed at the Englander with his pen.

"I'll gather the scientists, and all the papers I find, and set the place on fire, courtesy of Andrew Carter's quiet demolition gadgets." Newkirk nodded, tracing his route on the map. "I'll get to the rendezvous point with the scientists and the underground will take over from there. It doesn't have to take me more than fifteen minutes."

"Good, there are going to be guards all the way down the hill, except on these blind points. Kinch and Newkirk, you need to be ready to do the switch flawlessly… or we all will be in trouble." Hogan let the map on the table for a little longer so his men could get familiar with the area. "Very well, then. You all know what you have to do. Newkirk, come into my office, we have details to discuss." The colonel rolled the map and walked away with Newkirk.

* * *

Hogan stood at the window, troubled by his own thoughts. He felt the Englishman waiting by the table but he was not ready to look him in the eye. "Newkirk, I don't have to tell you how important this mission is. I'm afraid that we don't have much time to discuss details but London has insisted on not taking prisoners." The orders had come earlier, but Hogan was still processing the information. It was this kind of messages he feared the most, especially when he could not carry them out himself.

Newkirk was not into following orders to the letter but he understood the implications. For a moment, he seemed to panic, although he kept quiet, thinking of what to say. "No prisoners? Meaning... you're not asking me to- Colonel, how many people are we talking about? I couldn't… I can't." Even now, he kept his voice quiet, as though this was just between two of them.

"Newkirk, please, listen. If I could do it myself, I wouldn't have to ask. The orders are clear, this has to be done." There was no way to sugarcoating this. Hogan did not bother to try. "There are three scientists in that lab, but we still don't know if they are working for the enemy voluntarily. We could be lucky and have three out of three on our side."

"Sure… what if they're not? Do you expect me to line them up to the rudy wall and shoot them one by one?" Newkirk was trying his best to stay calm, but the mission had just taken a turn for the worse. "I'd rather decline, if it's possible, sir."

"I'm sorry but this is not a request, and you're not a volunteer... " Hogan took a deep breath before continuing. "These are my orders, and now they're yours… no room for negotiation."

It took Newkirk a great effort not to send Hogan to get stuffed. Going by the book was not his style and he would have liked the colonel to be just like him on that matter. However, they had worked together long enough to know that the colonel would never let him down. Newkirk did not need to ask why, he was sure that the colonel had chosen him for a reason.

"All right, I'll do it," Newkirk shook his head and shrugged. "Whatever it takes, right? I've got to ask you a favor, though… don't tell the guys, I don't want them to know."

"No one needs to know," Hogan nodded, not feeling better at all. "... and thank you."

* * *

Newkirk did not sleep that night, neither did Hogan; the mission was not started yet but it was giving them all kinds of anxiety already. There were too many loose ends in the plan, and all that Hogan could do was pray for a good conclusion. As used as he was to working under pressure, there was always that margin of error that could not be ignored.

"Did you see all the guards? It looks like a parade. They even put the dogs outside." Carter closed the door before going back to his packing. "I think Klink cancelled row call too."

"Do you think it's all about the competition, Colonel?" LeBeau finishing packing and went for a cup of coffee.

"They have to prove they're the superior race, what better way than a competition." Hogan said, following LeBeau to the stove. "Let's take advantage of that, and remember: the important thing is not to win but to get the scientists and their work before they do anything for the nazis."

Newkirk smirked but nodded. They did not know anything about what kind of experiments the Nazis were developing up in that mountain, but they had to be stopped at any cost.

3.

The weather slowed down the road trip with some drizzle. At some point, Hogan declared that Carter was getting carsick and he needed to walk it off.

"I do?" Carter frowned. At one glance from the colonel, Carter nodded and played along. "Yes, definitely carsick."

Schultz stopped the truck and walked over to Klink's staff car, parked a few meters in front of them. In a well rehearsed choreography, Hogan came with Schultz to shield his men on the front, while Newkirk and LeBeau distracted the two guards on the back of the truck. In the meantime, Carter helped Kinch to get out of the trunk.

"He's carsick? We haven't been on the road for thirty minutes," Klink complained, looking at his watch. "Colonel Hogan, if your men delay our meeting with General Schriber, they will discount one day in the cooler for every minute. Understood?" He tapped the driver's seat with his riding crop. "Let's go. And, Schultz, you're in charge. Make sure all the prisoners get to the lodge on time!"

Schultz had anticipated resistance from Hogan and his men. So, he was rather surprised to see the colonel gather everybody in the truck so quickly.

"Don't stay there, Schultz, we have places to be," he gave Schultz a cunning smile.

The sergeant knew that they were up to something, but he would never ask or try to figure it out for himself. He just let it happen and hopefully no one would be hurt.

The arrival to the lodge was a interesting. General Schriber was waiting with his men at the door. Ten armed guards and three soldiers ready for the race. Klink was already there, but the general lost interest in their conversation when he saw the truck with the prisoners.

"Everybody, get ready. We have a job to do." Hogan got out and saluted the general.

"Holy-" Carter gasped. "You see the size of those guys?"

LeBeau smirked, pretending not to be impressed at all. "I've seen them taller. Ne t'inquiet pas, we can beat them."

"You don't have to beat them," said Newkirk, trying to look positive. "When the race starts, you just pretend to run away from them. They won't have a chance."

Colonel Hogan came back and pointed at three bags by the doorstep. "That's your gear. Take whatever fits you… no complaints. We need to do this."

The guys sighed but obeyed without protesting. They went into a room that the general had reserved for them and got ready. LeBeau was sure that no part of the ski gear would fit him. So, he chose a couple of boots and skis.

Carter and Newkirk were more lucky, although pants and jackets were still a little loose.

"Blimey, I haven't worn skis in ages."

"At least you know how to put them on… I used to slide down the hill on a cardboard box." Carter tilted his head, trying to figure out how to put the boots and walk with the skis.

"Don't break a leg, just yet." Newkirk turned to LeBeau. "How are you doing, mate?"

"How do you walk on these things?"

"Very slowly," he chuckled. "At least, the ski masks fit well."

"And you'll need it to make the switch with Kinch," Carter whispered to Newkirk.

"Yes, I know… good luck, lads." Newkirk was still thinking of his role in this mission and how much he hated it.

There was a moment of reflection before the three men came out, ready for the singular battle.

* * *

"This is exhilarating, isn't it?" General Schriber looked particularly happy this morning. "I love the smell of snow in the mornings.

"A blizzard is coming," said Hogan with his usual calm.

"Ah, but that won't stop us from doing this race. I remember more awful conditions when I was in training." The general pointed at the path, covered by snow. "We'll start the race there, follow the path up the hill, turn and come back. I'd say my men can do it in 30 minutes."

"Thirty minutes," said Hogan, thinking of stretching that deadline ten minutes. Besides, the persistent drizzle was ideal to reduce visibility. "That's the spirit," he nodded before joining his men that were already outside. "You look like professional skiers," he smiled, lowering his voice. "Keep yourselves safe, don't try to win this race."

"Win? Not us, sir." Newkirk smiled, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

"We'll run after those mecs like we were chasing them," LeBeau said with enthusiasm.

"We'll make them look good," agreed Carter, looking at the mountain. "I miss my cardboard box."

"Keep focused on staying on your feet, Carter. Let's be grateful for having this general who's crazy as a goat cross our path at the right moment. The start line is your finish line too. I'll be waiting for you with the cheerleaders." Hogan waved to the general and Klink, who waved back. He was satisfied with how the plan was going so far. However, he would not let his shields down. They still had to make the delivery.

* * *

The race started with guards along the route. The three Germans took the point almost immediately, while Carter followed Hogan's advice and he focused on staying on his feet most of the time. LeBeau was neck to neck with Newkirk, until the Englishman left to make the switch with Kinch.

Schultz, who was watching the race with his binoculars, kept up a narration of the race highlights . "I don't see the Englander."

At this point, Hogan held his breath, praying that nothing went wrong. After one long minute, Kinch joined the race, instead of Newkirk. "There he is" Schultz smiled, handing his binoculars to Hogan.

Second thoughts had been haunting Hogan's mind. He could not stop thinking that it should be him going to that lab. Whatever happened to Newkirk, it would fall on his shoulders.

* * *

The switch went smoothly. Kinch was ready and the underground agent was there to pick up Newkirk. He was in his early forties, just a little taller than Newkirk; he was that type of guy who was easy to forget due to his commonplace features. Perhaps his more remarkable trait were his bright hazel eyes, kind and friendly.

"I'm Le Berger, code name," he smiled a little embarrassed. "First time spy, not really good at this."

"Not all underground people are," Newkirk bowed slightly. "Call me Peter."

"British? I work for operation Alsos. You don't need to know what that is but they sent me to check that laboratory… I'm a scientist." He scratched his head under an olive green wool hat. "I hope I'm not giving too much information. This is my first mission."

"Relax, Berger, you're doing just fine. The laboratory is up there, I'll do the talking, and you'll collect the paperwork."

Newkirk liked the guy. He looked honest and normal; Newkirk would need to keep him safe though. The Englshman was not comfortable with this mission, but he would carry on. Things could not get worse than they were at the moment.

* * *

"Hey, I think I'm getting the hang of this," Carter said, taking impulse to go faster. "Look, Louis, no hands!"

LeBeau saw him going forward and straight against a tree. He made a turn as he tried to get closer and he fell down too. "Are you okay, Carter?" LeBeau took off the skis and crawled on all fours towards his friend.

Carter sat up to take off his skis too. "Boy, that was intense," he chuckled. "I think I twisted my ankle… does this count as a wound in combat?"

"I don't know but I think we deserve a medal for this," LeBeau got up. "Let's go, we'll walk to the finish line together… slowly, just as the colonel said."

* * *

Newkirk entered the laboratory with his pistol ready. He let Berger go through the paperwork and archives while he collected the three scientists. "Good morning, gentlemen, don't mind me partner here. Please remain in your places, this won't take long." In Newkirk's head hovered all kind of bad endings but he still had hopes. He was not sure if he had what it took to carry the orders till the end, anyway. He worked on the explosives, trying to focus on one thing at a time. Then, he addressed the scientists, pretending to be calm and collect. "Gentlemen, we're leaving now… would you want to come along?"

Berger did not know what else they had to do, but that the organization he worked for did not take prisoners. He stopped at the door, with a backpack full of papers and stared at the scene with anxiety. He breathed easily when one of the men did not wait for Newkirk's invitation and begged them to take him with them. A second man accepted too, presenting several books with personal notes on the experiments they had been doing.

The third one produced a pistol and took a step backwards. "No, I can't. I won't work for my enemies." The man talked to Newkirk. "You may think you can take me with you, _but that would mean that I would have to die first_." He aimed at Newkirk. "The documents stay with me."

This was the moment that Newkirk had been dreading since he accepted the mission. He did not expect weapons among scientists. He did not expect any resistance, for all that matter. "I'm sorry, but we can't leave without those papers. If it's a matter of who shoots who," Newkirk tried for a civilized solution. "Don't do this. We can find some common ground, I'm sure... no one has to die."

Newkirk had just finished the sentence when the scientist turned and shot Berger. In a second, everything was gone to Hell. Watching the man die was a trigger in Newkirk's mind. There were no more words, no warnings; the next shot came from his own pistol. The rest of that moment was a complete chaos. He did not wait to see the man falling down the floor. He took the papers and pushed the two scientists outside. With no time to stop and grieve, Newkirk grabbed Berger's bandana and put it in his pocket. Then, he focused on finishing his job: the laboratory had to burst into flames and the scientists should reach the rendezvous point.

* * *

Kinch took the exit to the place where he was supposed to meet Newkirk. He turned around but the Englishman was not there yet. Kinch took off the skis and sat on a fallen tree trunk, hoping that Newkirk would meet him there soon.

Hogan kept watching the mountain with Schultz's binoculars. Kinch was gone but Newkirk had not reappeared yet. The colonel was panicking, wondering what could have gone wrong.

"Colonel Hogan? The race is down there… why are you watching the top of the mountain?" Schultz asked out of curiosity, but he changed his mind. "On second thought, I don't want to know."

"Kinch!" Newkirk came out panting. "Am I winning yet?" He sat to put on the skis but he struggled with his shaking hands.

Kinch crouched down to help him, sensing that something was not right. "Are you okay? Did you do the transaction?"

"Yes, scientists and files are on the submarine to London… The laboratory is on fire, you'll see the smoke in no time," Newkirk stood up and tried the skis.

"The scientists? What about Berger?"

Newkirk bit his lower lip and walked back to the competition. "Yes, ah, I'll give my report to the gov'nor. I'd better go now."

Kinch watched Newkirk going down the hill, fast enough to join Carter and LeBeau minutes before they crossed the finish line. Kinch felt that something had happened, but he was not going to ask questions. The important part of the mission was completed and they could go back to the Stalag. Gathering his things, Kinch made his way back to the staff car and got in the trunk at the first chance.

* * *

Hogan saw his men cross the finish line one by one, minutes later than the Germans. "Overall, it was a good race." He grabbed Carter's arm to steady him on his good foot. LeBeau and Newkirk walked behind them and the colonel was grateful to see them in one piece. General Schcriber was standing by the truck to shake Hogan's hand.

"Colonel, this was a memorable race. We should celebrate. Come inside the lodge and have something warm for you and your men. Let's plan the rematch for next year."

Hogan wanted to do that with his men, but celebrating with the enemy did not feel tempting at all; not counting that Kinch was already hidden inside the staff car trunk. It was not fair for him to remain there under that weather, while his friends enjoyed hot cocoa and cookies.

"Thank you, General, but I'd rather go back to the Stalag. I can wait after the war to have our rematch." Hogan smiled politely. "Besides, one of my men needs to put a twisted ankle on ice. The race proved to be too much excitement for us."

**Epilogue**

Hogan sat at the table in his quarters, listening to Newkirk's report. The Englishman had been putting it on hold for days, until he could not delay this for longer.

"Newkirk you didn't have a chance." Hogan felt that no matter how much he tried, his words sounded shallow. He knew what Newkirk was going through, but that was not enough to make him feel better.

"That's the thing, sir. I could do my job, as you asked me too, but I hesitated and one good man died. That's on me." There was no emotion in his voice, nor hesitation when he lay Berger's bandana on the table. Then, he walked to the window and breathed deeply with his eyes closed, letting the cool air refresh his face. "There's a storm coming, innit?"

Hogan stood by his side and nodded. "_Mother nature's sure powerful when she wants to be_." Then, he made a promise. "We'll get through it and it's going to be okay."

**The End**


End file.
